“And it’s better than anyone else would have done in the same situation.You handled the whole situation in exactly the right way.”
The quiet reassurance settles something deep inside my chest.
Behind her, Alessia moves toward Matteo, her hand sliding into his as he pulls her close for a brief moment.
Nico drops a quick kiss on Bella’s forehead, then the two of them move to one side.As the family’s communications specialist, she needs all the updates, and Nico speaks in low, clipped tones.
She listens without interrupting.
By the time he finishes, her expression has hardened.
Gina moves in a little closer to me, her presence warm and steady beside Bella’s fierce concern.She reaches out and briefly cups my cheek in her hand, the gesture simple and deeply maternal.
“My son protected you,” she says quietly.“That tells me he was raised right.And that he cares.”Her thumb brushes lightly beneath my eye, catching a stray tear.“And this…?This tells me that you care.”
That’s the moment of truth.
I do care.
So much that it hurts.
A sob catches in my throat before I can stop it.
Dear God in heaven, I pray it’s not too late to tell him.
For a moment Gina studies my face as if she can see straight through every defense I’ve built since childhood.“He knows,” Gina reassures me as she lowers her hand again.“He knows.”
Finally Nico and Bella rejoin us.
“Someone’s playing a very dangerous game,” she says.
“Yes,” Nico agrees.
Then the surgical doors open again.
Every person in the room goes still.
A man in pale blue scrubs steps through, a mask hanging from one ear.
The exhaustion in his eyes is obvious.
But so is something else.Relief.Or is that just my wishful thinking?
“Mrs.Moretti?”He looks at me, and my knees threaten to buckle.
“Yes.”
The doctor glances briefly at the family gathered with me.“Would you prefer we talk alone?”
I shake my head.We’re all family here.“Whatever you need to say, you can say it in front of all of us.”
He nods, glances at everyone in turn, then focuses on me again.“Mr.Moretti’s surgery was successful.”
For a moment his words don’t register.
Then the air rushes back into my lungs.
Successful.
